Looking For A Friend
by Beckles1987
Summary: Alex is abducted from the scene of a murder and the autopsy seems to confirm Gene's worst fears about her captor. Now he has to find the abusive scum and prevent the case becoming a double murder. Rated for themes/language. S2 spoilers. Galex. Now M.
1. Sweet Jane

**I own nothing but some merchandise, the plot, and any characters you don't recognise from the show.**

**Also, if violence bothers you I'd find something else to read, this isn't rated for smut.**

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When Alex saw the corpse of the young woman she went cold, seeing, just for a second, her own face superimposed over that of the victim's, almost as pale and grey as the concrete floor on which she lay. _She._ Not _it;_ not the_ 'vic', stiff_, _maggot farm _or any other offensive synonym CID might use when she was out of earshot.

She'd profiled enough victims in the search for their killers to leave herself completely incapable of viewing a body as simply the decaying remains of an organism or a set of clues to be deciphered by experts like herself.

The job hurt, every day. Sometimes she hated it, wanted to quit. If a copper could go to work with a smile every day and go home still wearing it then they weren't doing the job properly, they didn't care enough.

Alex blinked and the resemblance didn't disappear. The young woman under the white bed sheet still looked like her.

"Blimey."

"Bloody 'ell." She can't have been seeing things, not if Ray and Chris noticed too. Alex heard Gene walk up and stand beside her, a solid black presence in her peripheral vision.

"You got a sister you never told me about Bolly?" Ok definitely not seeing things.

"No Guv. I'm an only child."

"Doesn't surprise me." His comment wasn't even worth an eye roll, so she ignored it. "You two, witness statements." Alex didn't see Ray and Chris leave, her gaze was still fixed on the victim, Jane Doe...until she was identified. "Well Bolly?" Despite not looking at Gene's face when she took the Dictaphone out of her pocket, Alex could feel his disapproval. For reasons it did no good to dwell on, Gene wasn't a fan of the machines in general, and her using them in particular. She pressed record before sharing her observations.

"Female victim, around twenty-five."

"Do you 'av to do that?"

"Pen and paper would take longer."

"Fine. Just tell me what I need to catch this bastard."

"The excessive damage to the face may indicate a personal motive. The variety of colours in the bruises suggests they happened over a period of time, so she was either in an abusive relationship, held against her will or exposed to regular violence in her job."

"Doesn't look like a boxer to me. My money's on the boyfriend."

"It's a strong possibility but without her name you aren't going to get very far."

"Anything else?"

"If she was held captive it won't have been here. This could be a secondary crime scene, a body dump. The best forensic evidence might be somewhere else."

"Marvelous. I'm going to see if the Dum Dum Boys have got anything. Comin?"

"No, I'm not done here."

"Suit yourself." The sound of Gene's boots faded away as she crouched down near Jane's head.

"Jane Doe has severe facial bruising, colour suggests a beating a day or so post-mortem. Peri-mortem injuries are comparatively less severe although the bruising will take time to develop. There's an impression on her right temple, possibly left by a ring. If the blow was hard enough it could have been the cause of death." Alex paused as the implications registered. "The fact that she was covered up to her neck by a sheet could indicate remorse. Potential of death not being premeditated murder. Whoever is responsible might not have meant to kill her."

"I didn't."


	2. Boys Keep Swinging

**This is my fourth update in two days...the most productive I've ever been...it can't last.**

**Thanks to those who have submitted reviewed so far...please keep 'em coming.**

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Alex went cold, feeling her heart stop then start racing. This was bad, this was very bad.

She stood slowly and turned towards the voice, seeing a man about as tall as Gene but half the weight. He was standing way too close for comfort. Calling the gap between them two feet would have been generous. With his bland neither ugly nor attractive face and dirty blonde Luke Skywalker haircut he looked like the kind of man who'd be at home at a sci-fi convention, more pitiful than threatening, but non-threatening people didn't normally confess to beating somebody to death over a period of days.

"I loved her and she was leaving me…I couldn't let her." Part of her wanted to shout for back-up, another to draw her gun but either one of those would escalate the situation into something unpredictable and totally beyond her control. If she could just get him to come quietly.

"I understand how you feel. It hurts to not be with somebody you love." Memories of Molly rose to the surface but they were blinked away, Alex had no time to wallow in grief. "You must have been very angry."

"She made me mad, I didn't want to. It was her fault. She asked for it." _Jesus._ It shouldn't have shocked her anymore but it did, every time a man could say that his girlfriend asked for violence in that tone of voice, the one that held a fervent belief in what they were saying and no trace of remorse. _Did she ask to die?_ Alex wasn't stupid enough to say anything that accusatory but in the privacy of her mind she'd already hung drawn and quartered him.

"What was her name?"

"J-"

"DI Drake! 'Ave you finished talking to your bloody self yet?" Gene's voice carried across the empty warehouse from the yard outside. Alex winced, knowing nothing good would come of the outburst. Skywalker's eyes narrowed, he didn't look so non-threatening anymore.

"You never said you were police. I can't go back to the Scrubs, I won't." Alex went for her gun but he was too close. He was on her before it cleared the holster. She dropped the Dictaphone to have both hands free to fight him off but it didn't make much difference. For all her training she was soon incapacitated on the floor, he had height, weight, and strength on his side, as well as some training. "GE-" The word was cut off by his arm across her throat; his other pushed her head forward, cutting off her airway. He'd definitely had some training. As much as she struggled, Alex couldn't prevent the world fading into darkness.

Gene turned back towards the warehouse when the scientists arrived to go over the scene. His team's job was done as far as the preliminary crime scene stuff went and Alex was holding them up. He thought he'd heard his name coming from inside but it was so faint and fleeting he'd probably imagined it. Bolly calling his name was something of a recurring fantasy, moaning, whimpering, shouting, screaming…but always his name.

Not wanting to consider any of the more serious possibilities Gene continually wrote off his day dreams as the inevitable by product of working closely with an attractive woman and a welcome distraction from the frustrations of the job. When it all got too much he could shut his office door, get out the scotch and imagine taking her over the desk. At first he hadn't much cared for his bolshy tart of a DI, then she grew on him, then she got him suspended, then she grew on him some more, then he almost bloody killed her, now…who the fuck knew where they were. Despite all that he'd been unable to ignore the fact that she had a cracking pair of tits and an arse that kept him up at night…speaking of her rear end, she needed to get it moving. He headed over to the nearest entrance to the warehouse.

"Bolly, we're leaving! Get your skinny…" The warehouse was empty. The only person in it was the dead one and the only sign of Alex's presence was the silver tape recorder on the ground and she wouldn't have gone anywhere without it, not willingly. A car started and revved loud enough for him to hear it inside. Gene came to a conclusion that would be biting Bolly in the arse if he was wrong.

He ran flat out to the Quattro with Ray and Chris quickly realising something was up and getting in as fast as they could. Tyres squealed as he drove in the direction of the only moving car, a beige Volvo. Gene took a sharp corner around the warehouse, missing a uniform by a comfortable few inches.

"Where's Drake?"

"In the boot of that car or at the top of my shit-list." The Volvo sped up and Ray took this as confirmation of the Guv's theory, wasting no time in getting out his radio.

"Quattro to control, we need the RO of a Volvo 264 registration 6 5 Yankee Alpha 8 6, over."

"Volvo 264, 6 5 Yankee Alpha 8 6 received, over." Another sharp corner and some blaring horns later Chris and Ray exchanged a look before both of them put their belts on. It was the law now but that wasn't why they suddenly decided to change years of tradition.

The Guv was driving in silence. He never did that…except for that once, right after Sam had driven into the canal.


	3. Are You Coming? Are You Coming?

**Another update for you...hopefully leading to more reviews for me. Thanks to those of you who have reviewed already.**

**Bollinger92, I made the little edit you suggested, I think it works better now.**

"Control to Quattro, vehicle reported stolen yesterday, registered to Michael Watson 58. He lives in flat 14, Dolland House, Newburn Street, Lambeth, over." Ray looked at Chris who was scribbling in his notebook.

"Got it."

"Received. Put out an APB, over."

"Will do, over and out."

"The Quattro, aggressively and expertly yet almost frantically driven, sped along the roads of London and screeched around its corners as Gene tried to keep the Volvo in sight. At one point they were bumper to bumper. Only the fear of hurting Alex prevented him from driving the other car off the road and forcing it to stop. Scratching his baby, denting her front, breaking the headlights…it all seemed like a reasonable price, almost a bargain, but despite the fact that Alex, on occasion annoyed not only the piss but also the shit out him, even more than Sam had, he didn't want to hurt her and driving his Quattro into the back of the Volvo POS seemed like a good way to put her back in hospital.

The oncoming lane was clear, Gene pulled out and drove along side, trying to make the other driver stop. A brown Ford turned into the road and drove straight at them.

"Bollocks." Ignoring the commentary in the back Gene swerved back behind the Volvo, losing precious ground. Even more was lost when a white van cut him off, obscuring his view of the beige rust-bucket. He gripped the wheel tighter and waited for an opportunity to overtake. When it finally came the Volvo was out of sight. The Quattro stopped at the next junction. Right or left? Left or right? If he picked the wrong one he'd never catch up to Bolly. If he waited much longer it wouldn't matter which he picked, she'd be beyond his reach and he'd have let her down again.

"Right Guv."

"No, left you div."

Neither Ray nor Chris had any more idea where that bastard was taking Alex than he did. Gene slammed his hands on the steering wheel in frustration. As much as he wanted to carry on looking for her it would be like looking for a needle in a farm, never mind a haystack. A voice in his head, one that sounded suspiciously like Gladys, said that the best way of finding her would be solving the original murder, to follow the evidence instead of aimlessly speeding around London hoping to get lucky. The voice was right. Relying on luck to find her was bloody stupid, especially seeing how the only luck he had was bad luck, but that didn't stop guilt from rearing its familiar and ugly head when he decided to head back. It felt like he was abandoning her and the feeling was already eating at him.

"Get back on that radio. Nobody leaves that crime scene until I say so! And get everybody else in London looking for that bloody car!"

When Alex opened her eyes she thought, just for a second, that she was already dead. Wherever she was it was inky black and cramped…and her nose was full of the smell of decomposition. Her brain eventually registered a car's engine noise she worked out where she was, in the same car boot that had been used to transport the body she'd been looking at, J. She was trapped in a car driven by a killer. Her hands weren't tied, but that didn't give her much of an advantage, the catches that opened the boot and lowered the rear seats only worked from the other sides.

Sweat began to trickle down her back. The air in the boot was humid and smelled like death, and while she'd never been claustrophobic, being in a small pitch black space was definitely adding to her mounting panic. Did anybody even know she was gone? Was Gene looking for her?

Any panic she might have felt before the car slowed and came to a stop was dwarfed by a new wave of fear, one that sent her heart racing. The boot opened and Alex was blinded by the sun, her eyes only just adjusting in time to see a fist coming out of the light. As much as she tried, she just couldn't get in a position to put up a decent fight. Her legs were still in the boot she couldn't reach to punch his face. She wasn't surprised when the world went black again, only terrified.

The world eventually came back again and Alex found her wrists and ankles individually tied to a sturdy wooden chair in somebody's bedroom. She tested the ropes but the knots were sound. Her gun was gone, her black trench coat was gone and her head was pounding. She did an inventory of her injuries; her bottom lip had split and the blood had dried into a sticky trail down her chin, her entire face hurt from forehead to jaw but it was worse on the left side where the ache went deeper on her cheek and jaw and she could feel the beginning of a black eye.

It wasn't that bad really, something the men she knew would shrug off as nothing at all, something she could live with. The problem was, she'd seen her abductor's face. Statistics said he was going to kill her unless she could escape or was rescued first. She couldn't move, couldn't even speak around the length of rope that gagged her. Escape wasn't possible. The only thing Alex could do was use his psychological profile to avoid provoking him, buying the team more time to find her.

She only prayed it would be enough.


	4. It's The Terror of Knowing

**The full chapter title was going to be "It's The Terror Of Knowing What This World Is About****" but it wouldn't fit so I'm going to split it over two chapters. I don't know why but having 'What This World Is About' as the title of a chapter about an abused woman's autopsy appeals to my sense of pessimism. The glass is half empty, the world is awful and people are worse. Some days it's a real joy to be in my head let me tell you.  
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**I don't know why I'm updating like some kind of fic-writing demon. God knows it doesn't make reviews come faster...would begging?**

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Alex surveyed her surroundings, the room would have been white originally but cigarette smoke had turned the white woodchip the colour of aging paper. The smell of cigarettes didn't hide the other smell though, the smell of a decaying corpse. The two mingled and threatened to trigger her gag reflex but she forced her mind to think of something else, anything else. If she threw up still gagged she could choke to death on her own vomit.

The curtains, a garish black and yellow geometric pattern, were pulled across the window, preventing her from looking for familiar landmarks out the window. She still had her ears though. A baby wailed somewhere below her, speakers blasted the Boomtown Rats from the left, an argument was going on above her and 'Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?' came from the right. The cacophony of discordant life could only mean a block of flats, which didn't really help narrow down where she was. There was even the possibility that she was no longer in London although she desperately hoped that wasn't the case.

There was movement somewhere in the flat, footsteps getting closer.

The door opened and he walked in…holding her gun.

DCI Gene Hunt exploded into CID like a bomb with 'roid rage.

"Chris, find me that car! Ray, get me an ID to go with that body! The rest of you drop what you're doin' an' 'elp 'em. Until we get Drake back we don't 'av any other cases, any breaks or any sleep! Somethin' 'appens to one of us, it 'appens to all of us. Got it?" A chorus of 'Yes Guv's followed him into his office, he slammed the door on them and collapsed into his chair, getting out the bottle and glass that lived in his desk then the Dictaphone he'd taken from the crime scene. It had been dusted for prints inside and out but nobody had listened to the tape yet.

Gene put the tape player on his desk and stared at it for a long moment before rewinding it. With a bit of luck, something he hadn't called on since Alex had managed not to die from the bullet wound he inflicted, her psychotic ramblings would make some sense and he'd know what kind of scum he was dealing with. The tape stopped with a click that seemed loud in the quiet office. He pressed play and swallowed hard as her voice came through the little speaker, his gut twisting.

_Female victim, around 25._

_Do you 'av t'do that?_

His words came back to haunt him. If this tape helped him get Bolly back he'd stop criticising…well he'd really try…for a while. Gene listened to the rest of their conversation, cursing himself for leaving her on her own at a murder scene. He was sure he half remembered some bollocks about killers going back to the scene afterwards, come to think of it, it was probably her who'd told him. One of these days he'd have enough proof that she knew what she was talking about and just believe her.

_Jane Doe has severe facial bruising, colour suggests a beating a day or so post-mortem._

Did that mean he only had a day to find Alex before she was dead too? Christ, it wasn't enough time.

_The fact that she was covered up to her neck by a sheet could indicate remorse. Potential of death not being premeditated murder._

Bollocks. For one, if he was that bloody sorry he'd never have laid a finger on her in the first place. Gene knew from experience that men who hit women and kiddies never meant it when they apologised. It never stopped them from doing it again. And it was premeditated murder as far as he was concerned, when the scientists had taken off the sheet the marks on the woman's wrists and ankles had confirmed it. Blokes didn't imprison a woman and beat her senseless for a week then just let her go. He was always going to end up killing her…and now he had Alex.

_Whoever is responsible might not have meant to kill her._

He meant to hurt her, that was enough. There were no accidental deaths in situations like that, recklessness he could believe, although he'd do his damnedest to convince a jury otherwise. Abusive bastards didn't accidentally kill, they might not intend to but they didn't care whether they did or not. It was never an accident.

_I didn't._

Gene stopped the tape and took a long drink of scotch, realising what he was about to hear. It would help the investigation to hear exactly what had happened but it wasn't going to do much for his mood or state of mind.

_I loved her and she was leaving me. I couldn't let her._

So it was definitely the ex-boyfriend then. The violent, unpredictable, controlling ex-boyfriend, who had beaten the woman he supposedly loved to death, had Alex tied up somewhere. Was he hitting her? Had he already killed her? Gene gritted his teeth. He couldn't lose another DI. He couldn't lose Bolly, not when he'd only bloody just got her back. He took another long drink of whisky, telling himself that was why his throat was tight and burning.

_She made me mad. I didn't want to. She asked for it._

The bastard sounded just like his old man, no wonder he was gripping his glass so hard his knuckles were white.

_What was her name?_

He sat up straight in his chair.

"Come on Bolls, get me an ID."

_J-_

_DI Drake!_

"Fuck." He slouched back down and carried on cursing himself until he heard the threat in the bastard's voice.

_I can't go back to the Scrubs. I won't._

So he had a record and he was bricking it at the thought of doing more time at her Majesty's pleasure, a small time crook who shat himself at the thought of somebody who could fight back. That would help rule people out.

The inevitable scuffle broke out, his imagination and years of policing providing images to go with the sounds, images that would fester.

_GE-_

Something inside Gene's chest twisted painfully as Alex called for help, called for him. He hadn't been imagining things, he'd been close enough to hear, close enough to help, and instead he'd revisited his mucky daydreams. God he was a useless sack of shit.

Alex didn't say anything else after that. He could only guess how she'd been subdued, and what a choice of evils that was. One set of footsteps faded into the distance; they were slow, accompanied by a scraping sound, her daft red heels. She'd been dragged to the car unconscious. Hearing his voice again, Gene stopped the tape and pressed rewind before writing down anything he could use to find her.

Abusive wanker, been in the Scrubs, girl's name begins with J. it wasn't much but it was more than they had before…and it was all thanks to Bolly. Gene left his office and the team held their breath.

"Shaz, get on the blower to the Scrubs. We need the names of every bloke they've released under forty who's done time for hittin 'is missus or somebody else, street level dealin, burglary, anything small time."

"Since when Guv?" She hadn't missed a beat. For an Essex girl she was a damn near spectacular WPC. Funny how you only notice certain things in a crisis.

"Start with last couple of years an work back if you 'av to." He looked around the room and somebody else was missing, his eyes went back to Shaz. "Where's Chris?"

"He's gone to talk to the owner of the Volvo." He nodded, thorough investigative process, just like Gladys had taught him. Gene looked to Ray next but his long time DS had anticipated him.

"Nothing from missing persons yet Guv. Lots of girls missing but none of them fit yet."

"Name starts with J."

"First or last?"

"Either. I dunno. It was on Drake's tape machine." As much as Gene tried to keep everything going on in his head out of his voice, something must have leaked through because it went quiet again. Only Ray was brave or stupid enough to say anything.

"The whole thing's on tape?"

"Yes." The word was short and curt. Even Ray knew not to say anything after that. Gene walked over to the whiteboard, pulling himself together as he went, and added what he'd got from the tape. "I'm going to the morgue. Any news, radio me."

Gene sat in the Quattro, keys in his hand, wondering how the hell he was going to avoid seeing Bolly's face on that poor cow's body. He started the car and drove off, still not knowing.


	5. What This World Is About

**I'm warning you now...this chapter gets pretty damn depressing.**

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Gene hated morgues. They were always cold and the chemicals could never mask the stink of dead bodies. He saw a body on the slab, the one from the warehouse, laid bare like a side of meat. He rounded on the coroner, the sooner he was out of this glorified butcher's shop the better.

"Oi Doc! Jane Doe." The coroner turned around, recognising Gene and becoming instantly annoyed, not that Gene cared, he had that effect on most people.

"I was just about to start on her."

"Well hurry up. The shit stain that killed her has my DI."

"I heard." There was sympathy in the older man's voice but it only served to piss Gene off even more. The coroner didn't know Alex, didn't know what the team would lose if anything happened to her, didn't know what he'd lose. It was probably the same tone he used for every poor bugger who had to come in and ID somebody.

He got out a Dictaphone and Gene did his best not to flinch.

"Victim is female and appears to be in her mid-twenties."

"Skip all that bollocks and tell me what he did to her."

"There are multiple areas of bruising on the face and torso, various ages and severities, although none are what I'd call minor. They're all consistent with being punched. It's reasonable to assume that underneath the swelling the orbital and zygomatic bones are broken."

"He broke her face?" _And he's got Bolly._

"Her eye socket and cheek, yes…and some ribs on the left hand side, which means he's probably right handed."

"Most people are."

"Quite. There are no defensive wounds though. She didn't fight back, most likely because she was tied up. See the wrists and the ankles?" Gene looked, he'd already seen them at the warehouse but he looked again. There was an inch of flesh rubbed raw on her ankles and wrists. She'd ripped the top layers of her skin off trying to get away. Blood had congealed and dried on her wrists but only her wrists, as if she hadn't been able to move her legs, like she'd been pinned by something, some…body…_sweet Jesus._

"Doc?"

"Yes?" Gene knew he had to ask, the possibility would drive him insane if he didn't. if he asked and got the wrong answer there would be no way to keep the images from torturing him but if it had happened, could be happening to Alex, then he had to have the balls to not pretend otherwise.

"Was she raped?"

"If you'll just let me check…" Gene looked at the personal effects while the doctor parted her legs. It was the final indignity, adding insult to injury, but Gene needed to know.

"There's enough tearing and semen for me to say that she was raped, more than once." If he'd been a poncy southerner or a nancy like Gladys Gene would have thought his heart stopped, as it was it just sunk into his boots.

"Christ…" It was the closest Gene had ever come to prayer. He didn't normally go in for religion but if he thought getting down on his knees and begging an invisible entity would help, he'd do it. There were still lines of investigation to pursue but he'd already reached that 'whatever it takes' level of desperation. "Anything else you can give me?"

"The bruises form a rough timescale…she was tied up for about a week. Aside from what I've already mentioned there are no signs of physical torture."

"This isn't torture?" Being tied up, beaten and raped for a week certainly fit with Gene's definition of the word.

"I'm just saying is he's not into anything…exotic."

"What he is into is enough…and there's no ID."

"That's something I can't help you with I'm afraid. If anything comes to light when I open her up I'll call but you're probably going to have to keep wading through missing persons files. She might not even be missed yet." The thought that this young woman's family were unaware that she was dead, murdered, made him angry. Somebody besides him should care that she'd been raped and murdered.

More than that though, he needed to ID the girl to locate the boyfriend and get Bolly back. If her parents hadn't reached out to the police for help…well he was going to have to reach out to them, even if it meant inviting calls from every loony in London, because there was one loony he very much wanted to see again.

He left the morgue with a new determination in his walk, finally having a plan.

CID was a hive of activity when Gene returned to the station, everybody was doing something productive. Nobody was letting him or Alex down, they were so busy he hadn't even been noticed yet. Shaz was looking through what he assumed was the files on the releases from the Scrubs. Would the public be more affected if the plea for information came from a pretty young woman? Probably.

"Shaz!"

"Yes Guv?"

"Tart yourself up. We'll be on Police 5 later."

"We're doin' an appeal for information?"

"There's a chance that whoever can identify that woman doesn't know she's missing yet. We wave that drawing of what she looked like before she had seven shades of shit beat out of her around and get a name or an address from Joe Public." Nobody said anything, the fact that the Guv was going to go on TV again after what happened last time said more than enough.

Gene went over to look at the board, nothing had been added since he left. He hadn't really expected anything different because the radio had been silent, but he'd still hoped. Now he was forced to demoralise the team more severely and more thoroughly than the lack of progress could possibly have done. The core members of the department, Ray, Chris and Shaz, watched him, he could feel their eyes on him as he added the coroner's findings to the little information they had on the victim. _Held for a week. Multiple rapes._

"Baby?" Shaz and Chris were holding hands when Gene turned around. It galled him that a div like Chris was able to take care of Shaz when she needed it and he, the Gene Genie, could do sweet Fanny Adams for Bolly when she was trapped in a living nightmare. She was relying on him to save her and he was about as much use as a condom machine in the Vatican. The glare he gave the newlyweds made Chris let go but they were still sat side by side, rubbing his nose in his failure to be there when he was needed.

"Are you sure about this Guv?" _Christ_. Ray had never questioned him, never doubted him about anything except how Alex had got shot, and after that had been cleared up he'd gone out of his way to make up for it. He must really want him to be wrong. Understandable really, aside from having Alex safe, the one thing he wanted more than anything was to be wrong about what could be happening to her.

"Coroner's sure Ray, didn't check 'er undercarriage meself. Any closer to an ID?"

"No."

"Right!" Anybody that hadn't been paying attention was now. "Nobody goes home until we find her. Nobody 'as a drink. Nobody stops to 'av a fag. I want every member of this department in this room in twenty minutes. I don't care if it's their day off. I don't care if they're sick. I don't care if they just came off the night shift. Get 'em 'ere…an' if there's any of you take issue with that you can leave your warrant cards on Drake's desk on your way out."

Gene shut himself in his office and broke the news about his next TV appearance to the Super, which went over about as well as could be expected. While he was on the phone Gene also mentioned that a request for information would also be in the evening edition of every London paper. After hanging up he started drafting a statement for the media, both printed and broadcast. It would be read on every local radio and television news bulletin. He couldn't afford to make a single mistake.

He was going to find the son of a bitch who had Alex before he laid a hand on her or die trying.


End file.
